


His Wedding Night

by FoxWitch



Category: Natsume Yuujinchou
Genre: Crossdressing, Dubious Consent, Light Bondage, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-08-21
Updated: 2012-08-21
Packaged: 2017-11-12 14:14:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/492073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FoxWitch/pseuds/FoxWitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With the Matoba clan lurking around, some ayakashi beg Natsume to help protect their princess by having him impersonate her during her wedding procession. It goes as well as you would expect.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING! This story contains graphic M/M, cross-dressing, light bondage, and dubious consent. If any of these things are not to your liking, you would do well to avoid this fic. When I started this, I'd read up to chapter 44 of the manga, but if you've already met Matoba, this fic shouldn't contain any real spoilers for you.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Natsume Yuujinchou or any of its characters. That honor belongs to Midorikawa Yuki. This was written purely for entertainment and no offense is intended. I am not and will never make a profit from any of this.
> 
> A/N: If this looks familiar, it's because it was originally posted to ff.net.

Natsume Takashi could see strange things ever since he was a small child. Things that others couldn't. You might call them "spirits".

 

That said, Natsume's day proceeded as normally as any other day. He woke to Nyanko-sensei entering (staggering into) his room through the window, the cat's pudgy face flushed as he muttered loudly to himself after a night of drinking. He ate breakfast with the Fujiwara couple, and only saw a few small spirits on his way to school. And now on his way home, he ran full-tilt downhill in a wooded area as a particularly hostile youkai pursued at his heels.

 

Natsume's feet flew over the underbrush with impressive ease, having had plenty of practice over the years. The youkai bellowed, mostly unintelligible save for "eat you" and "Book of Friends". It stood over twice as tall as Natsume, looking like a crouched  body of a man with thick limbs that shook the leaves as they pounded after him. It didn't seem to have eyes, or at least Natsume hadn't looked close enough to see any past its gaping jaws lined with too-many teeth.

 

After surprising him on his usual path home from school, the demon drove him far off course and deeper into the mountains. Every break he made for the roads was quickly blocked and now he didn't know which direction he was running anymore except AWAY. Sweat rolled down his face and he gasped for each breath, barely dodging yet another swipe of the youkai's massive hand. His legs were burning with fatigue. Even with all his practice, he was only human and the youkai had kept up with his pace too closely to hide or escape. As far as he knew, Nyanko-sensei was sleeping off a hangover at home, and he doubted one of his punches would do much against this behemoth.

 

He could feel his pace slowing and his options were running out. Natsume spotted a large clump of brambles just ahead and made a desperate bid for it with the last of his stamina. He dove for a small clearing under the bushes, shredding clothes and skin alike on the thorns while wedging himself as deep into the branches as he could. The youkai howled in frustration, palming the prickly bushes and recoiling away. It pushed down on the branches violently at first, almost crushing Natsume under the foliage. Then, more tentatively, it reached underneath towards its prey's hiding spot.

 

Natsume curled up tightly, trying to push himself deeper despite the thorns digging into him. He would have thought after being constantly harassed for years by spirits that he would be numbed to feelings of fear, but being cornered never failed to draw it out. When the youkai's fingers finally curled around his body, he screamed.

 

The youkai burst into blue lights and scattered to the wind with a strangled cry. Natsume didn't move at first, afraid to believe it. Only his own panting could be heard through the blood thundering in his ears. He was saved, that much was clear. "Sensei?" He called hesitantly.

 

A human hand (or human-looking, at least) appeared through the brambles, palm-up as if offering assistance. Was it Natori then, or some kind of youkai? "Who's there?" Natsume tried again, but his rescuer remained silent. He considered staying put or trying to sneak out another way, but scrapped the idea. At that point, he was so hopelessly tangled in the thorns that he didn't think he could free himself without help. So, he took the hand and allowed himself to be hauled forward. The branches clung to his body and it took a lot of painful picking before he could move much. Upon clearing the leaves and looking up at the owner of the mystery hand, he released it as if burned and nearly backpedalled right back into the thorns.

 

"Matoba-san!" Natsume gasped.

 

"Natsume-kun," Matoba greeted. "We really should stop meeting like this."

 

_It's not like I want to_ , Natsume thought. His eyes darted left and right before returning to the taller man before him, wondering whether he should be keeping an eye out for Matoba's shiki or paying attention to the enemy in front. Matoba watched him with a knowing smile that reached his uncovered eye, and Natsume realized it didn't matter either way. It was all he could do to avoid falling to his knees in exhaustion. More running was out of the question. "What are you doing here?" He asked instead.

 

"Business," the long-haired man replied pleasantly while inspecting the longbow in his hands. "There are many interesting ayakashi in this area, aren't there? That one chasing you made such a commotion I had to come and see."

 

Natsume's blood ran cold. Could Matoba have heard the youkai calling out for the Book of Friends?

 

"You did well to elude it for so long," Matoba continued. His eye did a once-over on Natsume's appearance. His school uniform was covered in small holes and leaves, while dozens of raised pink lines dusted his bare arms. "Why don't you come back with me? We can enjoy a cup of tea and conversation while you recover."

 

"No, thank you," Natsume responded too quickly.

 

"I insist."

 

"Natsume!" A familiar deep voice rang out from above and a flash of white flew into view.

 

"Nyanko-sensei!" Natsume cried.

 

The youkai's long, feline body settled between the two of them and he threw his head back with an angry snarl. "You damn brat, how many times do I have to tell you? Or should I teach you a lesson now!?" Madara spat. Matoba didn't flinch. "And you!" He turned a large eye to Natsume. "I can't leave you alone for a minute!"

 

"Sorry, Sensei," said Natsume, though he couldn't hide the relief in his voice. Madara snorted in response.

 

Matoba spoke at last, "I see I won't be able to have a decent conversation with you as long as your…'guardian' is around."

 

"You're free to try," Madara dared.

 

"For today, I'll take my leave. But please consider paying me a visit in the near future, Natsume-kun. I admit patience isn't my best virtue."

 

On that note, Matoba turned his back on them and walked away at his own pace.

 

They watched until he disappeared into the trees. "Hmph. He gave up pretty easily," Madara commented.

 

Usually confrontations with Matoba involved daring escapes and avoiding his shiki. However, Natsume found himself too tired to look a gift horse in the mouth. "Let's go home, Sensei. I don't want Touko-san to worry," he said.

 

Traveling on Madara's back, Natsume arrived home only somewhat later than usual. Even so, he still had to explain to Touko-san that he fell into a thorn bush, accepting her worried chastising sheepishly. That night proceeded as normally as his day had, with a midnight ayakashi visit.

 

Natsume's eyes flickered open to a scratching at the window. He considered ignoring it. If an ayakashi wanted its name back, it could come back in the morning. Or preferably the afternoon, so he didn't have to go to school with his energy drained.

 

The sound persisted, however, and Natsume forced himself to his feet. He flicked on the light and looked to the window. A pair of small ayakashi waved at him with tiny stick-like hands. They appeared to be scrawny frogs standing on two legs, with ivory masks concealing their faces. Madara, now in his more familiar _maneki-neko_ form, stirred at the foot of Natsume's futon when he opened the window.

 

"Natsume Reiko?" One of the ayakashi squeaked hopefully.

 

"No, sorry," Natsume repeated what he had for many other before them. "I'm Natsume Takashi. Reiko was my grandmother, but she died a long time ago."

 

"Ohhh…oh, Natsume Reiko isn't here?"

 

"No, but, if you need your name back, I can-"

 

"Oh, she isn't here. What do we do?" The ayakashi fretted to the other next to it.

 

"I don't know. How will we help the princess now? The wedding is in three days." The other lamented.

 

"Maybe it will still work. They look a little similar, don't they?"

 

"A little. Maybe? The princess is more beautiful, though."

 

"Oh, definitely. But if they don't look too closely…"

 

"Um?" Natsume had to interrupt. As much as he wanted to return all the names in the book, it was late and he had school in the morning.

 

"Natsume-sama, you must come with us!" The ayakashi cried in unison, grasped at his pant legs with their little fists, and tugged on him hard enough to make him stumble.

 

A light kick was enough to send them flying, and they landed in a heap on Natsume's floor. He prepared to return to bed, when Madara spoke up. "A wedding, eh? Natsume, you shouldn't be so rude. We should go."

 

"We don't even know what they want," Natsume pointed out irritably. "You just want to drink some more."

 

"There will be a fine banquet," noted one of the ayakashi, picking itself up.

 

"Nothing but the finest for our princess," the other agreed.

 

"Natsume, you're always butting into things like this anyway. At least this time you get a reward. You never want to have any fun!" Madara accused, waving his stubby paws.

 

"You're hopeless, Sensei," Natsume sighed. With the cat's pressuring, he settled down with the ayakashi and listened to their story.

 

"Our princess is being married to a mighty lord on the other side of the mountains," one explained. "The wedding procession must take her there tomorrow night, but…"

 

"There are human exorcists in the forest recently. They're after the princess, we just know it! If they attack the procession, it'll be a disaster."

 

"Our poor princess. She's so frightened!"

 

Natsume looked to his guardian thoughtfully, "Could it be the Matoba clan?"

 

"Who else?" Madara muttered, grooming a paw to feign disinterest in the way real cats do. "But what did you expect Reiko to do about it?"

 

The ayakashi nodded gravely. "Natsume Reiko looked very much like the princess," it explained.

 

"It was uncanny," the other added. "Though our princess is more beautiful."

 

"Yes, definitely."

 

"We want to trick the humans with a fake procession while we take the princess another way."

 

"This Natsume looks similar, too."

 

"Not as much."

 

"But if you wear the veil, no one will notice."

 

Natsume blinked. He was still half asleep, and wondered if he was hearing them right. "Are you asking me to dress up as your princess?" He questioned flatly.

 

"We would be very grateful," both of the ayakashi bowed low, their masks clicking against the floor.

 

Madara cackled out loud, "Well, what do you say, Natsume? Shall we help them?"

 

"W-Well," Natsume's face flushed and he hoped it wasn't too noticeable. It wasn't that he didn't want to help, so much as he had an appropriate knee-jerk reaction to dressing like a princess. His eyes darted from the two small ayakashi prostrate before him and Madara, seeking any kind of confirmation on his feelings. He couldn't tell from the cat's expression if he was laughing at him or just excited about the prospect of a great feast. Then again, perhaps such a thing wasn't as much of a problem among youkai? Natsume recalled that many ayakashi seemed to have a difficult time distinguishing gender, often mistaking him for his grandmother.

 

"Please, Natsume-sama!" The ayakashi begged, touching his bent knees desperately from their position, "Who knows what those people will do to our kind princess? Please, you must help us save her!"

 

Natsume didn't know what the Matoba clan would do with their princess either, but he knew enough that he couldn't possibly refuse. The little ayakashi cared so deeply for their princess that the feeling rubbed off on him. So, sighing deeply, he jerked his head in a nod.


	2. Chapter 2

The next day passed, and it was quite out of the ordinary. Natsume didn't see a single youkai the entire time. _Maybe they're hiding, since the Matoba clan is lurking around_ , he reasoned. It was confusing, to be uneasy because of the lack of things that made him uneasy.

 

That night, a group of small ayakashi identical to the ones that begged for his help arrived at his home with the Fujiwaras, and led him away into the forest. Madara waddled behind him, easing Natsume's nerves as they drew deeper into the trees, far from the beaten path.

 

A soft glow emitted ahead of them, cool at first, a lighter shade of blue in the gray darkness. Then it warmed, becoming pink and yellow, casting a dreamy spell on the surroundings and drawing Natsume in the right direction without the help of the ayakashi. They arrived at the foot of a large, old tree, where a group of ayakashi held lanterns over an ornate palanquin. Next to it, in a smaller and less glamorous one, sat a beautiful woman decked in white robes. She was surrounded by servants, eyes on her adoringly, trying to be as near her as possible while keeping respectful. The light from the lanterns seemed to be coming from the princess directly, for her white skin glowed against the dark wood of the smaller palanquin. Natsume approached gingerly.

 

The princess looked up at him. Natsume tried hard not to stare at her face. The color of her eyes and hair were the same as his, but the structure of their faces was only passingly similar and he felt silly being compared to her. Was this how his grandmother looked?

 

The ayakashi threw themselves before her. "We're so sorry, Princess!" They cried. "Your procession should be grand and beautiful! We've really failed you this time!"

 

The princess touched the back of their heads with a slender hand. "Please do not trouble yourselves so much. I'm truly happy. This is my wedding," she said softly, breaking the illusion in Natsume's mind. Reiko probably wouldn't have made such a gentle face.

 

Two women who stood with the princess took Natsume by the wrists and led him to the larger palanquin. Though it was meant to carry one, the three of them could snuggly fit inside. Natsume awkwardly tried to explain that he could dress himself, but the two ayakashi paid him no mind and started stripping him. They tutted at him as they brushed his hair and sprayed him with fragrance, smothering his face with powder and a small amount of make-up around his lips and eyes. The wedding gown was mercifully more like robes than a dress. Still feminine, but more comfortable than expected.

 

It was solid white at first appearance, but on closer inspection, silvery threads were woven into intricate patterns of flowers near the hems. The fabric itself was like water against his skin. Natsume couldn't stop himself from touching it and letting it flow between his fingers. It was snug around his waist, but loose-fitting around his chest and hips, giving his boyish body the appearance of curves.

 

The female ayakashi backed out of the palanquin to inspect their work. Madara poked his large head inside. He looked like he was about to say something, but cut himself off and blinked instead.

 

Natsume fidgeted. "Don't just stare," He mumbled defensively.

 

The cat statue coughed and ran a paw over his face several times. "I-I suppose that'll do. If they don't look too closely," he said quickly. "I'll follow a little behind you in case those exorcists really show up."

 

"Don't reveal yourself too quickly," Natsume warned. "We're supposed to buy them time. They'll recognize you if you come out right away."

 

"Hrm, I'd say that Matoba would probably be even more distracted if he recognized you."

 

"What was that?"

 

"Eh, nothing. You already stuck your nose where it doesn't belong once again, but if it means giving that exorcist brat his comeuppance, I'll help out."

 

"Thanks, Sensei," Natsume relaxed a bit, not bothering pointing out that Madara was the first one in favor of this little venture.

 

"Natsume-sama," spoke the princess. "I thank you from the bottom of my heart. We are in your debt."

 

Natsume paused before replying awkwardly, "No problem."

 

One of the ayakashi placed a veil over Natsume's face. Then the curtains around the palanquin fell to conceal him further, and they began moving. He settled into the silky cushions – almost as soft as the robes – and simply stared through the veil at the interior. The light from the lanterns hardly pierced the curtains, and he couldn't see the outside. It seemed a silly thing that so much time was spent on his appearance when no one would be looking at him. Not that he was complaining. He doubted he would ever live it down if someone he knew saw him.

 

After several long minutes, the gentle rocking of the palanquin picked up speed. A strange glimmer passed before Natsume's eyes, making the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. The ayakashi outside didn't raise any alarm, but Natsume had an odd feeling. He parted the curtain an inch, and saw the ground speeding beneath him. "What's happening?" He whispered.

 

"Everything is fine out here, Nat- Princess," one of the tiny ayakashi running alongside assured him. It tugged on the curtain a little, giving him the hint not to show himself too freely. Natsume relented, sitting back in the darkness. Of all the things he worried about that night, he didn't realize boredom would be one of them. How far would they have to travel? They mentioned that the princess would be marrying someone on the other side of the mountains. Would he be able to make it back home by morning? He really wished it wasn't another school night.

 

 _I should get some sleep_ , he thought. His eyes drifted shut. The rocking was even and relaxing, and the only sounds were the ayakashi's swift footsteps and evening insects. Natsume didn't really sleep, but slipped into a restful state. He didn't know how much time passed, and he almost didn't notice that they had stopped moving. The palanquin settled on the ground. _Now what?_ He wondered.

 

One of the ayakashi peaked inside. "Sorry, Natsume-sama. Good luck!" It squeaked quickly, and disappeared from view.

 

Natsume blinked. "Wait, you're just leaving me here?" He called after them, opening the curtain to look outside. He was immediately met face-to-face with a lithe, black creature in robes, with a white mask for a face. He shut the curtain, not that it would do much good. The shiki burst into the palanquin with such force that it fell on its side. Natsume tumbled backwards, getting tangled in a mess of his own dress, cushions, curtains, and the shiki.

 

He recovered quickly, disengaging from the writhing, grabbing creature and hauling himself from the palanquin. The moment he cleared it, however, two more shiki descended upon him. He punched the first one with all of his might. Its mask cracked under the force as it was flung against a tree. The other hesitated, looking back at its crumpled ally, seemingly nervous even without facial expression. Natsume adjusted his clothes, trying to keep his face covered despite the hindrance to his eyesight. He spun around to make a run for it, but instead ran head-long into the first shiki that had escaped the fallen palanquin.

 

It grabbed his wrists first, yanking him upwards with its superior height and strength. He cried out in alarm when he was seized around the waist from behind and pulled off his feet completely. He twisted in their grip. If he could only get an arm free, or a good kick in, he was sure he could escape. However, their combined strength kept him steady and – not knowing he was human – they treated him more violently than in the past. Some kind of paper shot into his stomach. A jolt ran down his spine as if it were electrified. He didn't know much about spells or what effect it might have had on a youkai, but it knocked the wind out of him. They shoved him into the ground and wrenched his arms over his head, binding his wrists with rope and more paper.

 

Where was Nyanko-sensei? Natsume told him not to appear too quickly, but at this point he was clearly outmatched. Madara's impulse-control wasn't always at its best when Natsume was in distress, so why the absence now?

 

Now that he was safely bound, the shiki sat him upright, and a group of men appeared. "Try not to leave too many marks," one of the older men directed. "And you – keep still if you don't want to be hurt."

 

 _This is no way to treat a princess_ , Natsume had the ridiculous thought, but kept his mouth zipped shut. He was angry and scared, and he didn't _want_ to be captured, but as long as they didn't know who he was, the real princess would have safe passage on her journey. Her servants might have abandoned him easily enough, but Natsume couldn’t think ill of the princess herself. He could tell she wasn't cruel or evil, and didn't deserve any of _this_. And so he kept silent as the Matoba clan led him away.


	3. Chapter 3

They walked for a long time before reaching a road, and an even longer car ride took them to a large house in the middle of nowhere. With the veil over his face, Natsume couldn't see much of the outside world. But even if he could, he had no idea where they were. He looked upwards in hopes of seeing Madara's white form zipping along close by, but the sky remained empty of everything but stars. The shiki pushed him along as they entered the building.

 

It was an old mansion. A thick smell of dust tickled Natsume's nose, and the floorboard creaked as the group walked over them. A number of candles lit the halls as they led him up a flight of stairs and into a small, Japanese-style room with tatami flooring.

 

Almost immediately on entering, the shiki forced Natsume to his knees. It yanked on the back of his head to lift his chin. Though he couldn't see him clearly, Natsume recognized the figure standing in the center of the room as the head of the Matoba clan.

 

"Sir, we have captured the youkai you requested," said one of the men.

 

Matoba Seiji was young for his position. He was handsome, with a strong jaw and long, raven hair tied back. His eye was steely, with the other hidden by an eye patch. Because his ancestor promised it to a youkai and betrayed it, he had told Natsume, and now the demons sought it for themselves.

 

Natsume's heart raced despite himself. It was easy to be brave when nothing was happening. But under the Matoba head's appraising gaze, a sense of apprehension tingled down his spine. It dried his mouth and stuttered his thoughts, and when Matoba finally approached him, Natsume flinched away from his hand.

 

It was far past the point of avoiding it. Matoba wordlessly pulled off the veil, revealing the dim room to Natsume's eyes and the boy's face to its occupants.

 

Genuine surprise flitted across Matoba's face, and for a moment, Natsume thought he looked younger than he first guessed. But just as quickly, the taller man's face relaxed back into a calculating smirk. "You are all excused," Matoba said coolly. No explanation, no word of acknowledgement, just an order. The men and shiki obeyed him immediately and absolutely, leaving Natsume alone with the Matoba clan head.

 

For a while, they didn't say anything. Natsume sat on the floor with his legs tucked under him and his bound wrists resting in his lap. The wedding robes spilled around him evenly to form a white circle that absorbed the flickering candlelight rather than reflected it, glowing like a ghost. He did his best to look the other in the eye, returning the even stare with an uneven one of his own.

 

"I'm surprised," Matoba's voice rumbled half to himself. "I was certain we'd meet again soon, but I wasn't expecting this at all."

 

Natsume averted his eyes at last. "Nyanko-sensei will be coming soon," he said. Maybe.

 

"I want to help you, Natsume-kun. This is quite serious," Matoba knelt in front of him, a centimeter too close for comfort. "Are you so taken by the youkai that you wish to marry one?"

 

Natsume choked. "It's not like that!" He shouted, a little higher pitched than he meant. This time he couldn't hide the reddening of his face. "I-I was trying to protect the real princess! From you!"

 

"You spend a lot of time protecting youkai, it seems."

 

"Because they're important to me."

 

Matoba touched Natsume's cheek suddenly. Natsume flinched again, cursing inwardly at losing his composure so easily.

 

"Is the touch of another human so detestable?" Matoba asked, tracing his finger over the smaller boy's jaw and over his lightly painted lips. Natsume looked away again, but Matoba seized his chin firmly and forced his head back to look at his face. Natsume withered under the other's unrelenting gaze. He was close enough that Natsume could see his dark lashes. He had a sweet, wooden scent like incense. Natsume shuddered. He didn't notice until Matoba broke eye contact to look down that the man's hand had trailed down Natsume's throat and then rested on his collar-bone.

 

Natsume mouthed a query, but couldn't quite find the breath to speak. Matoba spoke in his place. "You interest me, Natsume-kun," he said. "But you're young, and you've been alone for so long. You cling to the ayakashi that acknowledge you, but you do not understand them as I do." The hand slipped under the hem of Natsume's dress, cool against the heated skin of his chest. Natsume raised his bound wrists to block him, but the man was suddenly very close. Looming over him with their knees touching, though Natsume didn't know when he moved. Matoba's other hand feathered over the nape of his neck and he was trapped. "And I understand you, too, Natsume-kun. I can show you so many things." His voice was like honey, his touch was like velvet. "That's all you wanted, isn't it? To be understood." His fingers brushed over Natsume's nipple, sending a thrill of heat down to his groin.

 

Natsume snapped back to reality when he recognized the feeling, and new fear rose in his throat. "Don't-" He gasped, touching Matoba's chest, but not quite pushing him away. His limbs suddenly felt weak.

 

"You don't like it?" Matoba's lips moved lightly over Natsume's as he asked. His fingers pinched the dark nub on the boy's chest ever so slightly. Natsume knew he should stop this. He knew, but he couldn't find the right words. His mind was too foggy, Matoba's cool voice and electric touches too distracting. He wasn't naïve to this feeling, he was a young man by now. But touching himself never made his body feel so hot.

 

"Interesting," Matoba hummed. "Those bindings are meant to make a youkai more docile, but they seem to be having the same effect on you."

 

Natsume didn't have time to register Matoba's words. The man overwhelmed him further, combining their lips, at the same time rolling the sensitive nipple more firmly. Natsume squeezed his eyes shut and clutched the front of the other man's kimono, pressing but still not pushing. Matoba deepened the kiss with a hand on the back of Natsume's head. His tongue slipped in, strong and oppressive, exploring every inch of his mouth. He pushed the wedding robes further open, revealing more of Natsume's pale skin to his touches.

 

Natsume made a sound in the back of his throat. He could feel Matoba smile over his lips.

 

Matoba broke the kiss at last, leaving Natsume dizzy and breathless. His mouth landed on the boy's neck next, kissing and licking and biting at his pulse. His hand left Natsume's chest and found the lower parting of the dress, sliding inside to rub his thigh. Natsume trembled in anticipation. He was already half hard when Matoba touched him.

 

Natsume gasped. Matoba continued to worry the mark on his throat and pulled him closer, meanwhile working Natsume's arousal at an excruciating pace. Then Natsume was suddenly on his back, with the head of the Matoba clan smirking over him.

 

 _What am I doing?_ "Let me go…" Natsume pleaded. Hot shame flooded his face. This was not only a man, but Matoba, and Natsume had never been so turned on in his life.

 

Said man took Natsume's bound wrists and placed them above his head. "This is your wedding night, is it not?" He dipped down to kiss Natsume's chest.

 

"Don't make fun of me."

 

"I didn't laugh."

 

Natsume tugged on his wrists, and was very surprised when Matoba released them almost immediately. Matoba hovered over him, moving up so that their noses almost touched. "Do you think I'm going to force you, Natsume-kun?" He asked. Before Natsume could reply, the now free hand dipped below his abdomen and took his manhood once more.

 

Natsume choked on his words as pleasure crept up his body. Matoba's sharp eye continued to stare at Natsume's face from his position – _he's like a snake_ – expertly squeezing and stroking. Would he force him? Natsume was almost afraid to struggle and find out, but he DID want to fight, didn't he? Each time he readied a denial, he bit his tongue when Matoba's thumb rubbed that _one spot_ on the tip. It wasn't _fair_.

 

The haze returned to Natsume's mind. His head fell to the side, and Matoba took to marking the freshly exposed skin on his neck. Matoba stopped his stroking briefly to pull Natsume's boxers off. He pushed the dress further up, revealing long, slim legs to the cool air. Natsume's cock was poised erect over his stomach. Matoba didn't ignore it for too long, but his grip was looser this time, teasing. Natsume squirmed, so focused on the lack of contact that he jumped when a slick finger entered him.

 

"Wait, that's-," Natsume flushed. Even aroused, it felt strange. Matoba's thin finger moved inside him, searching, and then pressing. Natsume's legs trembled when a different pleasure shot through his groin. "Ah…" he moaned wantonly, no longer able to care that it was Matoba's fingers coaxing the sound from him. Soon, another was added, and by the third finger, Matoba wasn't even touching Natsume's cock. It was tight and uncomfortable, but Natsume threw his head back in desperation. A heavy tingling from his lower body slowly reached upwards, and he knew he was about to come.

 

Matoba stopped, and for a moment, Natsume thought he would come anyway. But without stimulation, the pressure receded. Breathing heavily, he opened his eyes to see Matoba opening his kimono. He was hard as well – was it just from watching him? Using an oily substance from a bottle Natsume didn't notice before, he slicked the thick member. He then grasped Natsume's hips and pushed one of his legs up to position himself. Natsume covered his eyes with his wrists.

 

Matoba grabbed his wrists and replaced them above his head once more. He watched Natsume's expression as he penetrated him. Natsume tensed, not helping the situation, and cried out in pain. He jerked on his arms, but Matoba kept them pinned this time while he filled him completely. Natsume's legs trembled and he felt pinpricks of tears burning in the back of his eyes. "S-Stop," he managed to breathe when Matoba began to move. "It hurts. I can't…" He cut off with a whimper when Matoba's teeth closed over the same spot on his neck.

 

After a few short movements that had Natsume fighting back tears, Matoba found the correct angle and took on a steady rhythm. Each motion reignited the electric pleasure that pulsed through Natsume's body, magnified by the strange sensation of Matoba inside him. The older man took Natsume's half-hard erection and pumped it back to life in time with his thrusts. The pain moved to the background, only sharpening his arousal when Matoba picked up the pace.

 

Natsume's breath came in desperate pants, only breaking when Matoba pulled him upwards to sit in his lap. In this new position, Matoba sank in deeper, a sigh the only sound he made next to Natsume's ear. Not knowing what to do with his arms, Natsume let them fall over the other's shoulders, his hands burying in the silky ponytail.

 

Matoba took him with greater fervor, fingers grasping his hips roughly to bring him down harder. Natsume couldn't control his voice as his hips bucked against the other man. A fire crawled up his body, choking him, the pleasure exploding like stars behind his eyes. Natsume came with a loud cry, Matoba pushing into the same spot and squeezing him roughly to draw it out as long as possible. Natsume was still reeling when the other tensed under him and gave a final thrust, a throaty moan signaling his own orgasm.

 

Natsume rested his head against Matoba's shoulder, shaking and gasping for air. His heart thudded in his ears, and he thought briefly of the last time he met Matoba before the memory flitted away. He closed his eyes and allowed his breath to even out, at the same time slowly remembering where he was. His eyes shot open and looked to see Matoba watching him contentedly. Natsume pulled away, but his wrists were still caught behind the other's head and instead he ended up on his back with Matoba still poised over him.

 

Matoba cupped Natsume's face and landed a strangely gentle kiss on his forehead. "I won't allow the ayakashi to have you," he said in a low voice. "I will take you back with me, so you can be trained properly."

 

Natsume froze. Take him away? Away from his friends? And what would become of the Fujiwara couple if he just disappeared? "You can't!" He cried, some of his strength slowly returning.

 

"You still resist it?" Matoba sighed in exasperation, "You're already mine, Natsume Takashi-kun." He kissed the boy deeply and stroked a hand up the length of his body.

 

There was an urgent knocking at the door. Matoba stopped what he was doing immediately and raised his head. "Yes?" He called, only a sliver of his irritability audible.

 

"Sir, there is a powerful ayakashi approaching! Our seals around the boundary do not seem to affect it!"

 

Matoba Seiji sighed deeply. "How unfortunate," he said. "My apologies, Natsume-kun. My obligations to the clan must take priority over pleasure." He gave the boy another light kiss before he rose to his feet and adjusted his robes. Once decent, he exited the room without another word.

 

Natsume stayed where he was on the floor for a few minutes after. Slowly, he forced himself onto his stomach and to his knees. With only the quiet of the room surrounding him, there was nothing to obscure his thoughts. He supposed he should be upset, or angry. But really he only felt sore and lethargic. And messy. Every inch of his skin tingled from the feeling of being touched.

 

If anything, it was similar to the feeling of being beaten up by a youkai.

 

The window on the far wall shattered, the sudden noise barely registering to Natsume. Madara tumbled into the room, ignoring the destroyed wall and shards of glass littering the floor. "Natsume, those little idiots tricked us! The second they got a chance, they cast a spell and ran away from me!" He yowled in anger. "They didn't care about us, they were going to throw you to the wolves! I had to chase one down and make him tell me-" His nostrils flared suddenly. His large head looked down on Natsume sitting on the floor. Natsume hadn't had the time to fix the dress falling over his shoulders, or hide the dark bruises that bloomed on his chest and neck.

 

Madara's expression turned stony. "Where is he?" He asked icily.

 

"Nyanko-sensei-"

 

"Tell me where!" Madara's lips curled into a snarl and his eyes were wild. He raked his claws down the door, tearing a way open to the hall. Natsume leapt to his feet and grabbed on to the youkai's long fur.

 

"Sensei, please!" Natsume's voice broke. His throat was very tight suddenly. "Let's just go home. Please." He buried his face into Madara's shoulder, not quite trusting his voice anymore. Madara stiffened. He stayed still, but his breath came in heavy growls. It was a long and tense time before Madara turned his head and bit into the binding on Natsume's wrists, tearing it off with relative ease. He lowered himself so Natsume could crawl onto his back.

 

The doorway to the hall suddenly filled with shiki, but at that point, Madara kicked off from the window and launched into the sky. The shiki stumbled after them, wavering at the ledge in confusion.  The wind whipped around Natsume's body, the dress offering no protection from the cool air. He pressed himself closer into Madara's warm coat and stole a glance backwards. In the gathered people outside the house, he thought he could recognize a single dark figure that stood among them, grinning up at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This was originally the end of the fic. However, I had a bit more plot nagging on me and continued. I'm hoping to finish one day, but fair warning: everything after this is non-guaranteed icing.


	4. Chapter 4

The moment Madara touched down, Natsume tripped over himself to get inside. It was late enough that he didn't have to worry about the Fujiwaras seeing him rush to the bathroom. Once there, he struggled out of the dress, paying no mind to the snapping of threads being pulled too taught. He caught a glance of himself in the mirror, and wished he hadn't.

 

He was a wreck. There were marks all over his neck and chest, his hair was mussed, and the look on his face was absolutely miserable. Before that point, he was more or less in a state of calm. Now some odd emotions were rising in his throat. He braced himself against the sink and took a deep breath.

 

He was angry at Matoba, angry at himself, but mostly he was embarrassed about the whole thing. He didn't think he would cry, though. It was unpleasant (wasn't it?), but a lot of unpleasant things happened to him. This was just one more to add to the pile.

 

Feeling more stable, he stepped into the shower. He cleaned the make-up from his face first, and spent a lot of time scrubbing the "touched" feeling from his skin. He saved his lower parts for last. The hot water and soap stung as he cleaned a small amount of blood and another unmentionable substance from his backside. After he finished and stepped out, he was relaxed enough to feel his exhaustion.

 

He picked up the crumpled dress from the floor – gods, he left his boxers there – and peeked out into the hallway. His nightclothes were folded on the floor next to the door. Madara must have brought them. Natsume slipped them on gratefully and made his way back to his room.

 

Madara, now the pudgy cat once more, sat on the edge of Natsume's futon. He raised his head. "It's late. Get some sleep," he ordered dismissively. Natsume nodded and slipped into the covers. Madara toddled closer and curled up next to his shoulder. The warm lump next to him was like a spell that chased away any worries that Natsume had, and the young man easily found sleep.

 

~*~

 

_It was dark. And cold. Nothingness surrounded him, which intensified the scent of fear and sweat that pierced it. A single figure knelt in the void where the stench came from. Its face was cast in shadow, save for sharp red blood that dripped onto the non-ground before it._

_"I hate them," it hissed._ __

 

~*~

 

"Takashi-kun, are you still asleep?" Touko's voice called from outside Natsume's door. He startled awake and noticed the sunlight filling his room. "Are you not feeling well?" she tried again.

 

"Sorry, I'm fine. I just over-slept," Natsume replied. He groaned as he raised his aching body.

 

Madara bounced to his feet. "Are you sure you don't want to call in sick today?" He asked.

 

"No, I shouldn't," Natsume reasoned. "I've done that a few times already, and I don't want Touko-san to worry. And I'm fine, really. Just a little sore."

 

"Hmph, you're a tough kid, Natsume," Madara commented. "You better not overdo it, though. I'm not your horse, so don't expect me to carry you all over the place if you get tired."

 

"I won't," Natsume smiled. "Thanks, Sensei."

 

Natsume threw on his school uniform, and was only half relieved to discover that if he buttoned his shirt all the way up, it covered all but one of the marks. He touched the particularly dark bruise just under his jaw. He really didn't want to draw attention to himself, but there was no helping it. He found a large bandage in the first-aid kit he kept in his room and covered it up the best he could.

 

Downstairs, the Fujiwara couple was already prepared for breakfast. Touko glanced up with a smile. "Good morn- Takashi-kun! Are you hurt?" She exclaimed.

 

"Did you cut yourself shaving?" Shigeru teased.

 

"O-Oh, no," Natsume laughed it off weakly. "It's just a scratch. From Nyanko-sensei."

 

"The little kitty?" Touko frowned at the round cat at Natsume's feet. "That's no good, kitty! No breakfast for you!"

 

"Mu!?" Madara glared daggers at Natsume for the rest of the meal.

 

Natsume had to make it up to him by stopping to buy a snack on the way to school, but still got chewed out the entire time. The walk itself was worse than Natsume expected. He ended up limping the whole way, only forcing himself to walk normally when he reached the school gates.

 

Class dragged on. Natsume could hardly pay attention to the current lecture, and instead shifted uncomfortably and continually glanced outside. Madara was sitting on the wall outside like a sentry.

 

"Hey, Natsume, did you cut yourself shaving?" Nishimura made the same joke during lunch. Natsume only smiled a little. "Hey, lighten up. You've been acting distant all morning."

 

"Maybe it's a girl," Kitamoto offered.

 

"Eh!?" Nishimura exclaimed.

 

"N-No-," Natsume waved his hands, but the damage was done. Nishimura pestered him about it the rest of the day.

 

After class, Natsume met Madara at the gate. "Did you really wait here all day, Sensei?" He asked.

 

"Don't get used to it, fool. I just smell something suspicious around," he muttered.

 

As though the words were a spell, Natsume saw the unmistakable shape of a shiki ghost between two buildings. His heart froze. _So soon?_ And did they really know where he went to school? Would they show up at the Fujiwara's home, too?

 

"I knew it. I'll eat every one of them!" Madara growled and prepared to spring.

 

"Wait, Sensei! Don't run off!" Natsume pleaded. He was certain there would be more than one of them, and he didn't want Madara to go chasing after one only to have the others ambush him in the guardian's absence.

 

"Natsume?"

 

Natsume spun around. "Tanuma?" He replied. His breath caught in his throat. He absolutely did not want to involve Tanuma in any of this.

 

Tanuma frowned. "What's wrong?" He asked.

 

Natsume looked back between the buildings, but the shiki had disappeared. "Nothing," he said hesitantly.

 

Tanuma sighed, "It's not nothing, is it?"

 

"…Sorry," Natsume replied.

 

"I don't mean to push you, but you know you can ask me for help with anything, right?" The dark-haired boy offered gently. "I saw you limping, too. Did something attack you?"

 

"Yeah…" Natsume's voice trailed off. "Sorry, Tanuma. It's just something with an ayakashi, but it's nothing that I can't handle. So don't worry about me, okay?"

 

Tanuma's face fell. He looked…hurt. "Alright," he gave in, "but if you need anything, please call me." Natsume nodded and they said good-bye.

 

Walking home, Natsume hated how easily the lies fell from his lips. A liar. That's what everyone called him. Maybe now he was becoming one. He thought back to Matoba's words. He couldn't pretend that the exorcist's offer of understanding wasn't enticing. Tanuma was his friend, but there were still so many things he couldn't share with him. To people who knew even more than Natsume did, he would never have to hide anything.

 

But that wasn't true either, was it? He could never tell them about the Book of Friends. He could never confide in people who treated ayakashi like tools easily disposed of and replaced. He couldn't even do that with Natori, who thought of him as a friend.

 

If the shiki saw him, it didn't seem to follow. Natsume arrived home without incident. He greeted Touko and immediately trudged to his room, where he rested his weight against the door. Madara plodded to the futon and plopped down.

 

"What am I going to do, Sensei…?" He breathed.

 

The cat statue mulled it over for a moment before speaking. "I don't know much about the Matoba clan, but I can tell you that man is dangerous," Madara started carefully, "If it's you he has his sights set on, he's not going to stop. I'll protect you, but I can't guarantee I'll be with you at every moment. Give me the word, and I'll end it now."

 

The cat's offer hung in the air. Natsume swallowed before shaking his head. "We can't do that, Sensei," he said.

 

"Why not?"

 

"Because he's human," he slumped down, wincing when he hit the floor.

 

Madara's paws thudded on the floor in a tantrum, "You reckless twit, how am I supposed to get the Book of Friends if it gets taken by those guys!? Oi, Natsume, are you listening?"

 

Natsume hung his head in deep thought. What was he supposed to do? Against ayakashi, there was always something that could be done. He could run or hide. His punches were strong enough to bring most adversaries to their knees. And in the worst cases, Madara would deal with them himself and that would be the end of it.

 

But the Matoba clan were humans, and Natsume felt powerless against them. Running or hiding would only work for so long, his punches were only really effective on spirits, and the thought of Madara taking lethal action….Natsume shook his head again. He was afraid of ayakashi, but these people were frightening in all new ways.

 

Unlike them, Natsume wasn't really trained in any spells or seals. If only he had some weapons at his disposal to protect himself, instead of relying on Madara's strength. He remembered suddenly that he knew someone who might be able to teach him such things. He asked Madara who glared at him, "Do you think…I should ask Natori-san for advice?"

 

Madara bristled even more at this. "Are you out of your mind!? He'll think you're coming around to being his partner! He's cheeky enough as it is, so don't go anywhere near that seedy bastard!"

 

Natsume tilted his head. That was a strong reaction, even for Madara. "You're really wound up today, Sensei," he noted.

 

"Of course I am! I'm sick of these uppity kids trying to steal my prey! It was bad enough when it was just ayakashi, but these exorcists are a thousand times more annoying!"

 

Natsume stood and walked to his desk. In the top drawer, shoved way to the back, he dug out a crumpled paper doll. Natori had given it to him with the instructions that if he ever needed anything, he could write a message on it and send it to him.

 

Madara bounced to his side. "You're really contacting him?" He grumbled.

 

"I have to try," Natsume replied, jotting a quick note asking to talk. "Natori-san might be the only one who can help." Now what? He opened the window and held the crumpled doll outside experimentally. The paper sprung to life on contact with the fresh air. It thrashed in his palm to straighten itself before zooming off into the sky.

 

Natsume spent the rest of the evening studying what he was too distracted to pay attention to in school. At first, he couldn't stop looking out the window for signs of any response from Natori. But after several minutes, he fell into a comfortable lull of concentration. He didn't know how desperate he had been for a distraction. By the time he closed the book, the sun had fully set.

 

A familiar scratching sounded at the window. Natsume jumped to answer it, but instead of a paper doll, a tiny froglike ayakashi stood on the sill with an equally tiny box. Madara leapt to his feet. "You've got a lot of nerve showing up here again!" He hissed.

 

The little ayakashi cowered with its skinny knees rattling. "Yikes, p-please, Natsume-sama! We're very sorry for tricking you!" It squeaked. "I brought a gift of gratitude from the princess. Please accept it."

 

"There better be sake in that box," said Madara.

 

"N-n-no," the ayakashi trembled harder under the cat's scrutiny.

 

Though he thought the mutinous ayakashi deserved a bit of punishment, its obvious terror became a little pathetic and Natsume came to its rescue. "What is it?" He asked.

 

The ayakashi flicked the box open and presented the contents to the human. Natsume peeked in at a shiny metallic object. The ayakashi cleared its throat. "This ring has a powerful spell on it," it explained. "When you place it on someone's finger, they're bound by their word to you. They'll always be faithful."

 

Natsume plucked the silvery band from the box and inspected it, unimpressed.

 

Madara scowled, "What a useless trinket!"

 

"Eep!" The ayakashi stumbled backwards in fright, and then darted away.

 

"You better run, you little snack!" Madara shook his paw wildly.

 

Natsume leered at the suspicious item. It was reflectively shiny, just a silver loop with an obsidian stone embedded in it. Ayakashi writing was scrawled along the inside in flowing letters. The stone itself absorbed all light that touched it, so black and creepy he couldn't imagine anyone wanting to wear it. Giving such a thing to a significant other seemed like an underhanded thing to do in the first place. He sighed.

 

All this marriage business was beginning to irk him.

 

Natsume stuffed the ring in his bag where he kept the Book of Friends. Might as well keep troublesome objects in one place.


	5. Chapter 5

A few days passed with a tense atmosphere. Every now and then, Natsume caught glimpses of shiki lurking just out of sight. However, with Madara keeping constant surveillance, they didn't appear too keen on doing more than observing.

 

Natori still hadn't replied.

 

Natsume spent the bulk of his time trying to take his mind off things. After school, he laid on his futon and read a manga he borrowed. He was halfway through and it still wasn't interesting. So much so, he must have fallen asleep. The yellow sunset filtering through the windows interrupted his nap an hour later. He rolled onto his back and slid open his eyes. A female face stared down at him from an inch above.

 

"WAH!" Natsume threw himself away from the futon, landing with a thump on the floor.

 

"You're so cute when you're sleeping, Natsume. I could eat you up!" A female ayakashi in a violet kimono laughed at him.

 

 _Oh, it's Hinoe._ Natsume let out his breath in a mixture of relief and annoyance. "What are you doing here?" He questioned.

 

"Madara asked Misuzu to keep an eye on you while he's out drinking. But he was busy, so I came by instead," Hinoe chuckled. She perched casually on Natsume's floor and took a drag from her long pipe. "I heard something interesting from a friend, a lady-in-waiting for a certain princess," she said while she exhaled sickly sweet smoke in his face. "You helped them out, right? By impersonating her and drawing off those humans."

 

"Y-Yeah…"

 

"Well?"

 

"Well what?"

 

"Did you take any pictures?"

 

"Of course not!" Natsume snapped.

 

"W-What!? Why not?" The youkai exclaimed. "Well, I want to see. Where's the dress? Do you still have it?"

 

"No way, I'm not doing that!"

 

"Oh, this is why I hate boys! You only think of yourself!" Hinoe despaired. "Reiko never wore dresses. Imagining that cute face blushing in make-up, dressed like a sweet maiden....To think that I missed it…it's too cruel…." She held her face behind a flowing sleeve.

 

"You're not going to guilt me like that," Natsume said flatly. Hinoe pouted. Though he knew he shouldn't, Natsume felt a little bad about being mean to someone taking the time to help him. He sighed and offered, "I still have the dress, but I'd rather forget about the whole thing. Do you want it?"

 

Hinoe perked immediately, "Let me see it!"

 

Natsume opened his closet and dug under some items where he had the dress hidden away. He wanted to put it somewhere that Touko wouldn't stumble upon while doing laundry, but secret things always had a way of worming out into the open. He pulled it out and presented it to the female ayakashi.

 

"Oh, my," she cooed in appreciation, taking the dress and inspecting it. "It really is a royal wedding gown. This material is exquisite. Are you really giving it to me?"

 

"You'd be doing me a favor, honestly."

 

Hinoe hummed a little and continued to touch and explore the dress. Then she turned a mischievous eye on Natsume.

 

_Oh, dear._

 

The ayakashi tackled him to the floor. "Just wear it for a minute~" She insisted.

 

"I said no! Hey- knock it off!" Natsume struggled.

 

Suddenly, Natsume's window slid open with a familiar voice, "Natsume. I've come to…ah…" It cut off.

 

Natsume stopped to see Hiiragi's inscrutable single-eyed mask looking in. Just in time to see him pinned under Hinoe with the ayakashi trying to strip him. She paused for a few moments, before turning around without a word.

 

"Wait!" Natsume kicked his way free and scrambled to the window. "Hiiragi, is Natori-san here?"

 

Hiiragi, ever composed, turned back. "Yes," she said. "He's waiting outside."

 

 _He's here?_ Natsume said to Hinoe, "I'll be fine with Natori-san. You don't have to wait around if you don't want to."

 

"I come all the way out here and now you're sending me away? I'm never babysitting for Madara again," the female ayakashi huffed and slipped out of the room in a puff of smoke.

 

Natsume grabbed his bag and told Hiiragi, "Tell him I'll be right out."

 

The ayakashi nodded mutely and floated downwards out of sight. Natsume slipped on his coat and made his way downstairs. Touko sat in the kitchen where she often did, leafing through a magazine. A grocery bag sat on the counter along with some vegetables in what appeared to be the beginnings of dinner. She glanced up, "Takashi-kun, are you going out?"

 

"Yeah. With Natori-san," he replied honestly.

 

"Oh, that sweet young man?" Touko smiled fondly. Natori's charms had already done their work. "You have such interesting friends. But don't stay out too late."

 

"I won't," Natsume said and exited the house.

 

Natori stood a small distance from his house with Hiiragi at his side. He was dressed-up in a nice shirt and vest, with formal khakis. He wore his glasses and a hat like he often did in public. Supposedly to hide his identity, though his "charisma" shined too brightly and he was often recognized anyway. Natsume still had trouble processing that Natori was so famous. It was too much of contrast to talk to the haughty and somewhat cynical man in real life and seeing him on screen.

 

When Natsume approached, the exorcist looked a little frantic, but managed to keep his voice down. "Natsume! I'm sorry it took so long. I was out of town for a photo-shoot, but I wanted to check up on you as soon as possible. Are you in trouble?" Natori's animated explanation and genuine look of concern caught Natsume off guard for a moment.

 

Despite his initial skepticism of the older man's motives, Natsume felt he could rely on Natori more and more. However, he remained hesitant to call him a true ally. He was someone just like Natsume, who saw the same world he did. _But he doesn't, really. Not exactly like me_ , he warned himself. "I'm fine for now, but," Natsume continued, "Let's talk somewhere else."

 

"Of course," Natori said, and led him away. A car was parked nearby, and Natori climbed inside with Natsume following hesitantly. The older man started the car and took control of the wheel. The lizard tattoo on his body, actually an ayakashi, scurried to Natori's hand as if attracted to the movement. "Is there anywhere you want to go?" He asked.

 

"Not really," Natsume replied, looking out the window.

 

"Then I'll drive around for a while."

 

The constant hum of the engine soothed Natsume's nerves. He watched the scenery zip by outside in silence. Now that he had Natori with him, he didn't know where to start or what to ask. He chose the direct route, "Natori-san, just how powerful is the Matoba clan?"

 

Natori looked at him in surprise before remembering to keep his eyes on the road. "I know you're not just asking me out of curiosity. What happened?" He inquired.

 

"It's a long story," Natsume replied evasively. "But I met Matoba -san again, and he's really pushing me to join him. I keep seeing his shiki lurking around my school and I think…I think he's going to try to force me into it."

 

"Yes. I wouldn't put it past him," Natori tightened his grip on the steering wheel and an odd expression played across his face.

 

"I don't know what to do," Natsume admitted.

 

"They're one of the more powerful exorcist clans in this area. Or anywhere, really. But you know, they're still human and kidnapping is pretty illegal regardless of the reason. Have you considered calling the police?"

 

"I can't…I don't want to cause trouble for the Fujiwaras. And if Matoba-san tells them about me, I…" Natsume clenched his fists in his lap. "I don't want them to have anything to do with each other. Whatever I do, I don't want those people to worry."

 

"Natsume-kun," started Natori gently. "You can't bear all of this on your own. You're living two lives. It's okay to have things that are important to you, but you're taking on too many and the balance you have now is too fragile. Something is going to give."

 

They now drove through the countryside. The grass and trees melted together in Natsume's unfocused eyes. Growing up, life was frantic and ever-changing. Moving between households, switching schools, keeping silent about youkai with literally no one to speak to. After moving to this place with the Fujiwara couple, for the first time in his life, he began to settle. He made friends at school. He started a mission with the Book of Friends. He learned more about ayakashi and grew to care about them. The days stopped coming in short bursts of new fears and different settings, and instead lulled by in a stable, linear fashion. At some point, he had become complacent. Happy.

 

But he should have known that such a thing could never last forever, right?

 

When Natsume didn't speak, Natori continued, "Your feelings about ayakashi and humans both are part of what makes you so extraordinary. But it's also a weakness. Matoba-san is ruthless. He probably already knows about this weakness, and he'll latch on to it and use it to control you if you let him."

 

 _A weakness_. Natori had said so before, hadn't he? That Natsume was soft. That is was strange to care about ayakashi and that he needed to pick a side, them or humans. Was it really…such a bad thing? "Natori-san…am I really the only one who feels this way?" Natsume asked quietly.

 

"Natsume-kun…" Natori trailed off. He watched the road silently, eyebrows knitting. His mouth tightened, and his throat moved a little. The lizard ayakashi flicked its tail before disappearing under his collar. Natsume noticed these little movements, wondering what the man was really thinking. Natori spoke at last, "Even if you are…and even if I disagree with you…I'm not sure if changing is a good thing."

 

The sun had fully set, and they were now in town again. Pale lights glowed in the windows of the houses as people settled in for the evening. Natori smiled awkwardly. "Sorry, that was depressing," he admitted. He straightened in his seat, removed his hat, and drew his fingers through his hair purposefully. "I wanted our time together to be a happy occasion. Won't you join me for some coffee? Or we could go to my apartment and watch one of my movies." The charm almost seemed to make the air around him glow.

 

"No, thanks," Natsume wanted to nip that in the bud right away. It sounded way too much like a date. "It's getting late, so I need to get home. But, Natori-san, I was hoping you could teach me how to make some barriers or maybe shiki so I can protect myself. Nyanko-sensei taught me a bit, but-"

 

"Uh, oh, of course!" Natori agreed hastily. "Yes, Natsume-kun. Anything you want to know, I'll be happy to teach you." He looked positively giddy.

 

 _Huh, maybe this_ was _a bad idea_ , Natsume had second thoughts. He really didn't want Natori to get his hopes up.

 

A few minutes later, they pulled in next to the Fujiwara's home. Natori gave Natsume his number, and Natsume agreed to call him to schedule a training session. He waved good-bye and watched Natori drive away. He glanced up at the night sky. The air was cooling in early autumn, another year slowly inching by. How much longer would this happy life last?

 

Natsume approached the front door, and was immediately yanked backwards by powerful dark limbs.

 

He opened his mouth, but this shiki was smarter than before and stifled the sound with its hand. It wrapped an arm around his waist, pinning Natsume's arms down in the process. He struggled desperately, fear leaping into his chest when he saw a familiar figure out of the corner of his eye.

 

"Hello, Natsume-kun. I hope this isn't a bad time," Matoba said pleasantly.

 

The shiki who stood next to dark-haired man held a rope in its hands. _No!_ Natsume kicked out at it, recoiling when it tried to grab his leg. Instead, he flung his head back and caught the shiki holding him in the face. Its grip loosened and Natsume freed himself. The other shiki poised to lunge at him, when Natsume spoke quickly, "Wait! Matoba-san, please, wait- I'll go with you!"

 

Matoba made a gesture and the shiki paused.

 

"I'll go with you, but you have to let me go inside first. If I just disappear, it'll cause problems for these people. Please." Natsume stood with his back to the door, eyes wide like a cornered animal. The two shiki tensed expectantly, ready to descend on him at the slightest cue from their master. But the focus was on Matoba, who held the power to ruin everything Natsume cared about.

 

"The couple you live with?" Matoba muttered, lifting his chin at the residence. "You won't be needing them anymore. Pardon my rudeness, I should really go inside with you and explain the situation to them."

 

"You stay away from them," Natsume mustered as much venom as he could.

 

Matoba inclined his head slightly. Natsume snapped his mouth shut, praying he didn't anger the man. If Matoba commanded the shiki, there was literally nothing Natsume could do without making a commotion that would attract the attention of the Fujiwaras. There was a small chance Madara was inside, but Natsume wouldn't hold his breath. He'd been a fool to send Hinoe away, though he didn't think he wanted her tangled in this mess either.

 

Finally, the Matoba head sighed. "Very well, if it means so much to you," he conceded. "You have ten minutes. If you aren't back by then, I will come in and fetch you."

 

Natsume gave a tight nod, shoulders visibly relaxing. The shiki stayed their position as Natsume backed into the door. He didn't quite trust them not to attack, even as he slipped inside the house.

 

"Takashi-kun? I thought I heard your voice outside," Touko stood from the table. She and Shigeru had already sat down for dinner. Natsume's and Madara's places were set as well, both vacant.

 

"Touko-san, sorry I'm late," Natsume's voice shook, and he had to clear his throat. "Listen I met…Tanuma while I was out. Since tomorrow is our day off, we were planning on spending it together. Would it be okay if I stayed at his house tonight?"

 

Touko frowned, "It seems a bit sudden."

 

"Don't worry so much, dear," Shigeru spoke up. "Boys Natsume's age want to spend more time with their friends than their family."

 

"I see…I suppose it's okay, then. Won't you at least stay for dinner?"

 

"I can't. Sorry, Tanuma is waiting for me," Natsume excused himself and ran upstairs. In his room, Natsume needed a moment to collect himself. The cat was not there. His hands trembled while he grabbed an extra pair of clothes and a few other things to put in his bag. He didn't know how long he would be trapped there, but he hoped that Madara would notice his absence before the Fujiwaras did. The Book of Friends caught his eye, and Natsume pulled it from his bag.

 

What to do? He couldn't leave it unprotected in his room. Even hiding it wouldn't keep it safe from any youkai powerful enough to enter the house uninvited. Instead, he stuffed it in his shirt under his jacket. With nothing left to do, Natsume dragged his feet to return, only pressing on due to the time constraint.

 

"Have fun, Takashi-kun," Touko waved at him.

 

Natsume could barely look at her as he waved goodbye and stepped outside.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Small amount of graphic M/M ahead.

The bedroom was spacious and furnished in a Western style. Landscape paintings adorned the walls, softly lit by the dimmed lights. There was a table with two chairs in the center, and a door led to a personal bathroom on the far wall. On the opposite end, a mahogany writing desk was placed near the large bed pushed in one corner. The comforter was red and gold, matching the drapes. It was luxurious, if he ignored the bars on the windows.

 

Natsume had been taken to what he assumed was the Matoba main house. He allowed himself to be led into the room with no resistance. His bag was confiscated almost immediately, Matoba promising sweetly that it would be returned soon. Natsume felt the taller man move behind him, and stiffened. Warm breath brushed across the skin on the back of his neck. He subconsciously moved his hand over his stomach, where the Book of Friends was hidden. Suddenly he wasn't sure if it would be safe, even under his clothes.

 

"Rest well, Natsume-kun. We'll discuss our arrangements in the morning," Matoba's voice purred. The door whispered shut as he left him, a lock clicking shortly after.

 

Natsume fell to his knees. He stayed that way for several minutes, breathing unsteadily. _Don't cry. It won't help anything_ , he scolded himself. He wiped the moisture from his eyes and forced himself to his feet. He approached the window and touched the glass. His face reflected against the cool surface, striped by the steel bars outside. There was nothing but dark forest stretching out from the mansion.

 

Natsume removed the Book of Friends from its hiding place. _If I could summon Misuzu…_ He thought. He didn't know the youkai very well, but he was large and seemed powerful. Perhaps even comparable to Madara. At the thought of the youkai's name and face, the book flipped open on its own accord to the correct page. Natsume stared at the name blankly. _Oh. I need to do something else…A circle and a ritual?_ Natsume thought back to the time he summoned Misuzu before with Madara's instruction. Try as he might, however, he simply couldn't recall the complicated circle he was supposed to draw. He shut the book in frustration. Even with Book of Friends, he was powerless without his teacher.

 

A brightly colored robe lay folded on the bed. It was done in a masculine style, but the floral pattern reminded Natsume too much of a certain dress and he pushed it aside in disgust. He slipped the Book of Friends under the mattress and crawled into the covers, still in his clothes.

 

The silky sheets and down pillow conformed around Natsume's body. The clean, unfamiliar smell gave him the sense of sleeping in a hotel room. He recalled suddenly the hot-spring inn he stayed at with Natori, and a different inn with Nishimura and Kitamoto.

 

There were countless times that Natsume slept by himself. But that night, in a strange place without even his Nyanko-sensei at his side, Natsume had never felt so alone.

 

~*~

 

_Is it here?_

_He thought that every time he passed that particular shrine on his way to school. Is it here? It always was, though. That youkai. It knelt at the shrine every hour of every day, its palms cast out pleadingly. "I'm so hungry…"  It would cry pitifully to each passerby. They ignored it, of course, as did he._

_As he should. As his father and mother instructed him to. There was nothing to be gained from such an ayakashi. It was weak, dangerous, useless, all of these things at once. So he listened to it cry the same thing every morning and afternoon._

_It cried and cried. Keening from the bottom of its heart without rest until the flowering trees became red and golden in autumn. Snow kissed the ground when he first looked at it. Flowers returned to the branches when he first offered it bread._ __

 

~*~

 

Natsume caught a whiff of sakura when he awoke. His body creaked as he rolled over, unused to the plush bedding. He wasn't surprised at all to see Matoba sitting at the desk next to him, reading a book. It wasn't until he sat up that the dark-haired man's attention shifted to him.

 

Matoba's eye looked him over. "There was no need to sleep in your clothes," he said, bemused. "You should make yourself comfortable."

 

"It's fine. I'm not staying long," Natsume retorted mildly.

 

"You're angry."

 

"Are you surprised? I've told you already that I'm not joining your clan."

 

"Indeed, I must apologize for my extreme actions," Matoba sat the book down and stood. Natsume's hackles rose, but the man walked to the table instead of the bed. "But I believe the circumstances were extreme enough to warrant them. You're much too fascinating to allow the youkai to steal away. Since you refuse to give me the time of day, I've brought you here only to offer you another perspective. Free of your 'sensei's', frankly, poisonous influence." He motioned to the seat across from him.

 

Natsume exhaled, unconvinced. He forced himself out of the bed and to the opposite chair. He noticed his bag sitting on the table.

 

Matoba continued, "Before I do that, I would like to learn a bit more about you and your relationship with ayakashi. It could give me some insight on how to help you."

 

 _I don't need help. There's nothing wrong with me_ , Natsume repeated the thought in his head, but held his tongue. _There's not_. Matoba removed Natsume's belongings from his bag slowly. Matoba's hand movements were oddly graceful, laying out his spare clothes and schoolwork. They brushed away strands of black hair from over his eye-patch, tricking Natsume into looking up to meet his eye. Before, Natsume saw Matoba's mannerisms as creepy. But now everything the man did seemed vaguely sexual.

 

After Natsume's uninteresting possessions, Matoba pulled out a slip of paper from one of the bag's pockets. Natsume stared at it quizzically, before realizing it was a paper doll like the ones Natori used.

 

"It's been deactivated, of course," said Matoba. "But it's not yours, is it? I wonder how it got there."

 

Natsume wondered the same thing, and then wondered if all exorcists were so nosy.

 

Next, he removed the silver ring. "This one is interesting," Matoba commented. "It has an ominous aura, don't you think?" Natsume stayed silent, and the raven-haired man set it aside with the doll.

 

"And then there's this little item…" Matoba pulled out the Book of Friends.

 

Natsume froze. The blood drained from his face and he couldn't hide his discomfort from the older man. _How did he find it_? Natsume cursed over and over.

 

Matoba leafed through the pages. The dark ink splashed across each page represented an ayakashi. Natsume flinched each time Matoba traced one of the characters with a slender finger. "The Book of Friends. An interesting title. On first look, it's nothing but meaningless scribbles. Knowing you, however, it must be ayakashi writing." He watched Natsume's expression carefully before continuing. "Perhaps it’s a novel, or a journal. But if I had to venture a guess…I would say these are names."

 

 _He knows._ "It's just some useless book," said Natsume, keeping his voice level. "I get a lot of weird gifts from doing favors for ayakashi. It's the same as that ring. I don't know what it says, either."

 

"Is that so? That's disappointing," Matoba replied in a bored tone. "You won't mind if I take it, then? Though I don't have much use for a book that can't be read. It could be full of dangerous curses, anyway. It might be better to destroy it." He pinched one of the pages between two fingers and made a tiny tear near the corner.

 

"Stop!" Natsume jumped to his feet and reached for the book.

 

Quick as a viper, Matoba snatched the boy's wrist and yanked him forward. Natsume barely caught himself and stood on his tip-toes to avoid falling over the table. "Please do not lie to me, Natsume-kun," Matoba rumbled near his ear. "You are far too easy to predict." He raised a hand to Natsume's jawline and brushed across the fading mark on his neck.

 

Natsume pulled away. "Don't touch me!" He snapped. With nowhere to run to, he retreated to his chair, pressing against the back to put as much distance between them as possible.

 

Matoba raised an eyebrow, not quite accomplishing the intended expression due to only one of them being visible. "Come now, was it so bad?" He chided, "Are you angry because I took something precious from you?"

 

"You didn't," Natsume countered irritably.

 

"Oh?" Matoba remarked in interest, "I didn't mean to insult you, but I assumed you were a virgin."

 

"It was the first time it was…like that," Natsume didn't want to say "good", "But when I was being passed around by my relatives…. " He didn't want to talk about this. "Are you going to do it again?" He asked bluntly.

 

Matoba Seiji's expression was unreadable. He stood and slowly walked behind Natsume. Natsume steeled himself. As nervous as he was, as long as Matoba's attention was on him, the Book of Friends would be out of harm's way. Matoba's hands came into view over Natsume's shoulders and wrapped his arms across the boy's chest. Ink-black hair tickled over Natsume's cheek. He was drawn into what was suspiciously similar to a hug. "I'm not the villain you make me out to be," Matoba murmured. "I truly believe you're something special, Natsume-kun. You have a power that can help many people. I want you to join me so we can make that happen."

 

It was frightening. How his voice could turn on a dime so smoothly. From cutting into him like an icy knife, to layering him in honey warmth. He didn't fight when Matoba kissed his neck.

 

"You have a place here. You needn't be alone anymore…" Matoba continued. Natsume's heart ached. He wanted so badly to believe that. The hands embracing him flicked open the buttons to his wrinkled shirt and dipped inside. The fingers caressed his smooth chest, tracing around his pectoral to hardness. Warmth spread across his body almost immediately. Matoba stepped around the chair to lean in front on him, dipping down to take his lips.

 

Natsume thought he might hate Matoba, but he _liked_ the feeling of the man's hands on his body. He _liked_ how heat traveled downward when Matoba's tongue explored his mouth. And he _hated_ that he didn't want it to stop. _What's wrong with me?_ He asked himself. Matoba released Natsume's lips to allow him air before undoing the boy's pants and taking hold of his manhood. Natsume moved against the hand as the man stroked him to hardness. Matoba kissed along his abdomen, down to the point of his hip. _I shouldn't, I need to stop him, but it feels so…_ He inhaled sharply when his cock was suddenly enveloped by damp heat.

 

Matoba took him into his mouth. Pure ecstasy shot through Natsume when the man's tongue passed over the entire length, finishing with a swirl over the sensitive tip. He bit his sleeve to stifle the needy moan that escaped him when the action was repeated over and over. His breath came in a series of _ahhs_ , his hips twitching in time with the man's licking and sucking. He was dizzy with sensation and a whispered " _Please_ ," somehow broke through his pants. Matoba held his hips to draw him closer, nearly swallowing him whole.

 

Natsume gave a small whine and arched his back. His orgasm was almost painful; pleasure wracked his small form with only Matoba's hands on his waist keeping him steady.

 

Matoba took all of his release, giving no indication of discomfort. He pulled away, his breath warm against Natsume's hyper-sensitive member. The dark-haired man's eye trailed up and down the boy's flushed skin. "Beautiful," he muttered into Natsume's stomach, tasting the smooth expanse with a gentle lap. "I could drink in every ounce of you."

 

Natsume was too thoroughly rolled to be embarrassed by the words. He startled as if waking when Matoba stood and began to re-button his shirt. "I really am impatient," Matoba confessed. "To do this first thing in the morning. You haven't even eaten yet."

 

Natsume batted his hand away and fixed his clothes himself, saying nothing. Now that his mind was clear, he was very relieved that Matoba chose to stop at that. _I can't think clearly like this. I need to get out of here soon_ , he thought.

 

"There are some matters of business I must attend to today, but I will return soon for a proper discussion. Please relax here for now. I will send for a servant to bring you anything you require."

 

"You don't need to…"

 

"My resources are yours to enjoy, Natsume-kun," Matoba insisted. "Please consider yourself family rather than a guest."

 

 _That's not happening_ , Natsume shot back in his mind, but he was tired of arguing. When Matoba left, taking the Book of Friends with him, Natsume headed to the bathroom. He showered quickly, somewhat annoyed by the collection of scented soap and shampoo he had to choose from. Then _very_ annoyed when he stepped out and discovered his clothes were gone and replaced with the red kimono from the night before. He considered going naked in protest, realized that it would counter-productive, and reluctantly slipped on the clothes.

 

There was a gentle rap on the door to the room. "Come in," Natsume called.

 

The door opened, and a female ayakashi entered the room with a sliver tray of food. She was decked in pale blue robes, with a plain, white mask for a face similar to those of Matoba's shiki. She set the tray down on the table. The spread was pretty if not basic, with a selection of egg, fish, pickled vegetables, and rice arranged neatly in matching china. Natsume's stomach rumbled when he remembered he skipped dinner the previous night. He sat at the table and took a few tentative bites.

 

The youkai stood by the table as Natsume ate, making him pause uncomfortably. "Um. Thank you," he tried.

 

"My pleasure, Natsume-sama," Natsume was surprised when she answered in a wispy voice. He had assumed she was as voiceless as the shiki.

 

"What's your name?" He asked curiously.

 

"Miyuki."

 

"Miyuki…can I ask…why do you serve the Matoba clan?"

 

"I cannot answer."

 

"Are you happy here?"

 

"I cannot answer."

 

"Why can't you talk to me? I won't tell anyone."

 

"I have been specifically forbidden to offer such a service."

 

 _Of course_ , Natsume frowned. Matoba did not want him to befriend the youkai. He wanted him to see her as a servant. "I don't need anything," he said. "Please leave me alone."

 

"As you wish, Natsume-sama," the youkai bowed low to the ground before fading from the room.

 

Natsume felt a little guilty. It wasn't her fault what the exorcists ordered her to do. He finished his meal in silence. About an hour after that, Natsume really wished he included the boring manga in his bag. On the table, Natsume noticed that while Matoba took the Book of Friends, he left everything else. He fiddled with the paper doll, but it stayed dead in his palm. _It must be Natori's, but what was it doing in my bag?_ He wondered suspiciously. He finished his homework next, then checked the book that Matoba left on the desk. It was old and written in small print with old fashioned Kanji. Natsume gave up on it quickly and took to exploring the rest of the room.

 

There were more robes in the dresser, and more old books in the desk. That was the extent of it. Matoba clearly expected him to utilize the servant to bring him entertainment, but he couldn't bring himself to call on her. When she returned with lunch, however, Natsume gave in and asked for something to do. She brought him some more books, comics, and a radio. It wasn't perfect, but it at least kept him from pulling out his hair in boredom.

 

It was midafternoon when Natsume felt a prickle on the back of his neck. He ran to the window. A moment later, he could see a white streak darting through the sky. "Nyanko-sensei," Natsume flung open the window and shouted more forcefully through the bars, "Nyanko-sensei!"

 

The white form changed direction and charged for the window. Natsume jumped back just as Madara struck the wall, shaking the room. The youkai seized the steel bars in his jaws. His neck tensed in effort, but he eventually tore them free from the foundation with a loud crack. He tossed it aside and forced his way in through the window.

 

"Nyanko-sensei!" Natsume could only repeat the youkai's name in relief, and threw his arms around the great, white beast.

 

The youkai shook him off dismissively. "Sorry, Natsume. I'm not holding back this time," Madara growled.

 

"You can't! Sen-" Natsume cut-off as Madara shoved past him. He fell backwards to the floor as the powerful ayakashi forced his way through the locked door and into the hall. "Sensei!" He scrambled to his feet and gave chase. A startled scream came from just ahead, and when Natsume turned the corner, Madara held a man in his mouth by the arm. The man cried out in pain when Madara began to shake him. "No!" Natsume reached for him, but stopped when he saw something standing in the doorway.

 

Matoba stepped into the room, wielding his longbow. The moment Madara set eyes on the dark-haired man, he dropped the other human and lunged. Matoba whispered something under his breath, and white ropes seized Madara around his neck and middle. They jerked him back like chains.

 

"I see the trap on the window was well laid," Matoba quipped, and released an arrow directly into Madara's chest.

 

The youkai howled in pain. His body writhed, but he tore at the bindings with his teeth valiantly, somehow unable to bite through the strange consistency. Another arrow hit his ribs, and this time Madara stopped in his tracks.

 

" _STOP!_ " Natsume screamed, throwing himself between the two. Madara thrashed behind him, pupils constricted to livid slits, gone mad with fury. Hot stripes of crimson flowed down his snowy fur from the wounds on his chest. Natsume thought he would be sick.

 

"Natsume-kun, I can't allow a youkai to harm humans. You understand that, don't you?" Matoba's voice was strangely stiff. His own posture was rigid while his blank expression was carefully controlled.

 

Natsume felt the situation slipping from his grasp. "I won't forgive you if you kill him!" He threatened. The man drew another arrow. "Please, stop!" This time he begged, "I'll do anything, so please!" He ran forward into Matoba's chest, interrupting the man's stance. He grasped his clothes in tightly clenched fists and buried his tear-soaked face into them. "I'll do anything…don't kill Nyanko-sensei…" He dropped to his knees.

 

"Enough, Natsume! I'm not going to be killed by this _child_ ," Madara roared and strained against the bindings. They stretched thin, beginning to tear.

 

"Matoba-sama!" Cried one of the gathered men.

 

Matoba hesitated for a fraction of a second longer before lowering his bow and taking on a hand gesture. "Prepare a seal. Quickly," he ordered.

 

Hearing this, Madara redoubled his efforts, but the binding was tenacious and roped over his legs. The exorcists rushed to obey Matoba, forming a circle around the furious youkai and taking on the same hand gesture. Someone carried in a large, clay jar and set it down as close he dared. They chanted. Natsume's hair stood on end when strange energy rolled off Matoba and through him to reach Madara. The youkai convulsed and howled, his body melting to white mist and flying to the jar. One of the exorcists plugged it and set a paper seal over the lid, silencing it.

 

Natsume jumped to go to the jar, but Matoba grabbed his arm. "Reinforce the seal and take it to storage," the taller man directed breathlessly. "That one might be troublesome if it were at full strength."

 

"What are you going to do with him?" Natsume demanded.

 

"That remains to be seen, Natsume-kun," Matoba replied shortly. "You did beg so _generously_ for its life."


End file.
